Rise of Night
by Dorian Holbrook
Summary: Depression and darkness covers the Earth, as Dementors return to the wizarding world. With new, unexplained behavior, the creatures are on the offense, openly attacking people. The Ministry, under the command of Hermoine Granger, struggles to make sense of the attacks, from an enemy they cannot kill. They begin looking at history, the origin of Dementors, and Azkaban for answers.
1. Chapter 1

The overcast London morning suffocated everything in a hauntingly grim shade, which seemed appropriate representation of the uneasiness festering the cloaked crowd that gathered outside Whitehall. The sky was stingy with the sunlight it allowed to escape darkened clouds, with more light coming from the many silvery wisps circling the congregation that the sky above—which seemed appropriate for the day.

Many of the lights were formless, ever shifting shapes, but others stood as heavenly statues; figures of animals standing nearby their people like guards. A dog, two cats, many birds, a rabbit, a fox, and even a bear stood at the perimeter of the crowd.

The people gathered in one huddle, all in dark robes of browns and blacks, which served well in keeping the heavy moisture clinging to the air far away from their skin. They wore exhausted-looking faces, worn and tired from troubling times.

The monotonous colors and damp attitudes were all the same, that is, except for one.

A woman stood at the forefront of the crowd, as if she were ready to lead them into battle as a self-possessed ruler. Her magenta heels firmly planted on the wet ground in a strong symbolical stance, as if to say "I am first, you must fall in line." Oddly, she looked more threatening, and brighter, than any of the Patronus shapes around her.

She wore a magenta jacket perfectly flat pressed in sharp angles. Her wand, which was pointed skyward, held an invisible umbrella over herself, keeping very little mist off her body, but maintaining her tall hair, ornate makeup, and lavish jacket. A silver mockingbird of pure light stood, perched on her shoulder, with a little glowing reflection beaming off her highly-polished rhinestone spectacles.

Before the crowd was Whitehall, the London home of the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry was tasked with overseeing the magical world in Great Britain, as well as serving as bridge between Muggle government and the rest of the international magical community. Even with its minor troubles throughout the years, the Ministry had done well in its test of time and only recently once again underwent new leadership.

Also in attendance were four Aurors, magical defenders against the Dark Arts, which stood at four points around the scene. Their wands were also up, but, instead of protecting the group from rain, like the woman in magenta was doing for herself, the Aurors had a shielding charm projecting a barrier that hid their activities from the Muggle world around them.

To the witches and wizards gathered, the coverage was completely invisible, but, from the outside looking in, it appeared to be a construction site working on road maintenance. Plus, with the bad weather punishing everyone, anyone traveling to and from would already be laser focused on getting where they needed to be in a hurry. The simple illusion charm kept the Muggles from walking into their space or seeing what they were doing. This was a strange way of going about business for the Ministry, since it was a very public show, but the group of gathered journalists also realized these were strange times.

The crowd stirred for the first time since gathering, as they saw shapes coming through the entrance of Whitehall.

A small party of six witches and wizards, all serious in demeanor, appeared from the Ministry of Magic entrance, striding through the chilled morning air and onto the stage facing the crowd. Animals of silver light followed closely behind them, each different from the other.

A woman at the center immediately stood out from the rest. She wore a white cloak over white jacket. She had very little makeup on and no jewelry, outside from the simple wedding band on her left hand. Her hair was neatly pulled into a bun and she looked like the perfect balance of class and willingness to work.

The group instantly pulled cameras out the very moment she took the podium to speak. They overwhelmed her with flashing lights, but kept a respectable distance from her podium and the nearby Aurors. Outside of muted whispers, nobody spoke out before she had a chance to greet them, which was very odd for this group in any situation.

"The world is in complete discord," the woman in white said, her voice booming and sounding factual. "Both the Wizarding and Muggle communities of every nation around the world are being impacted by ongoing attacks. To Muggles, the world is getting smaller, closer to midnight, and more threatening than ever before. Longtime allies are turning backs on each other and old threats grow stronger. As cynicism, hate, and hopelessness continues to creep into daily life like shadows, it makes dread much more common. To the wizarding world, those shadows are not formless. They are what children, for many years, have considered urban legend and horror story. They are the long abandoned assistants to dark wizards of past and once employed members of our own community. They are Dementors…but we are all already well aware of that,

"I say this, not to be dramatic, or to incite panic. I simply state it clearly in front of you all, because I have promised to always remain open and straightforward to those I serve.

"I will not sugarcoat the reality in which we are in. We are in unprecedented times and we face an enemy we have no understanding of. They hunt and we have no clue as to what for. They are organized and we haven't an idea as to around whom. They are spreading and we don't know how to competently protect everyone appropriately.

"Eleven witches and wizards are being treated at St. Mungo's for attacks, two of which happened in the late night of Godric's Hollow. The younger of the two was Eliza Shacksbell, who was only two-years old."

Murmurs filled the audience, as quills furiously copied every word the woman said onto floating parchment. For the first time, members of the audience started raising hands and speaking out. The only one to remain silent was the lady in magenta, who stared at the speaker with accusations in her eyes and cynicism behind her lips- lips, which were pursed and twisted, not sure if the woman wanted to be angry or gleeful at the trouble facing the speaker.

"Minister Granger, where did the Dementors go for so long and why have they returned now?" a short man in green shouted his concerns from as far to the front of the line as the woman in magenta would allow him. "Do we know what is causing them to act in such a manner? What sense of direction are their attacks going in? What should we tell people who want to protect themselves? Are we safe?"

The crowd all echoed their support of these questions in fleeting murmurs.

"We are currently explor—"

As quickly as Minister of Magic Hermione Granger began answering questions, more came in. Voices started speaking over her and the tough demeanor she walked in with started to slide ever so slightly, just enough for the lady in magenta to notice.

"Is anyone looking for a cure?"

"There is no cure!"

"Cure! I've never heard of such a thing!"

"Death! It is worse than death. There is no soul left to cure. What does anyone possibly think can be done?"

"The Patronous is not enough! Is there a way we can kill these beasts?"

"The Patronous charm is too hard for the standard-"

"What about Hogwarts?"

"Where is Harry Potter?"

"Are our children safe?"

"What about Hogwarts?"

"A two-year old?!"

"Dementors haven't been seen since the fall of Vold-," the man in green began to say, but caught himself falling to old habits once again. "Is this the return of He Who Must Not Be Named?"

Needing to gain control of the gathering, Hermoine spoke out above the many accusations and questions, "We will not give in to fear. Producing fear is what they do. We will not, ourselves, start doing their work for them. We will not give them more fear to feed upon.

"No, we do not know where they've been, why they've all shown themselves, or why they are currently feeding at the rate they are attempting to. We do have experts working to analyze those at St. Mungos. Everything from herbology to magical creatures are being examined as a possible cure. Professor Longbottom is currently working on a—"

"Professor Longbottom!" A voice in the crowd interrupted. "Ha! Longbottom is nothing more than a one-hit wonder turned drunk. You expect us to put faith in a wish that he is stepping out of his greenhouse at Hogwarts to attempt to save us all? He is our hope? We don-"

"Professor Longbottom is a skilled and compassionate wizard and I'd like for you to respect him as he struggles to do the impossible alongside everyone else!" the lady in white boomed over the crowd. "This behavior is what I will not allow, because I know we are better than this nastiness. We need to ask these questions, but we will not give into acting like beasts. I called you all here today to spread knowledge and factual points, so that people may know what is being done and how to best protect themselves. I called it in the open to show the world that we will not fear those who feed on it. We have Aurors out in communities working overtime to find solutions and we have many talented witches and wizards doing their best to make sure this terror ends. It isn't easy when we have an enemy that cannot be killed and comes in large, widespread numbers. However, I will not grow their army by joining it in spreading fear."

The weight of her voice quieted everyone, either in embarrassment or anger. Flashes stopped and the witches and wizards looked around at each other as quills rapidly recorded everything with slightly more appreciation in her show of strength.

Finally, from the front of the line, the woman in magenta broke out into a slow clap. She had been quietly and carefully taking in the scene before her, waiting to come forward when it would garnish the most attention. Her lips parted in a smile to reveal several gold teeth before she spoke.

"What…a….show," the woman said between claps in a harsh and sarcastic tone. "Hermione, Rita Skeeter; I'm working on my newest book, "Hermione Granger: Savior or Danger. My readers are just dying to know….. You're in your very first year as Minister of Magic, and, while I fully expect you to stumble, we do not expect you to collapse onto us all. As someone who is typically prepared for anything—the girl with the plan—how do you feel about your start as Minister? How do you feel about the dead children and other witches and wizards? How do you feel about the magical runoff impacting the Muggle world? Are you even doing anything? You bring us here for smoke and mirrors, trying to show us how girls can be tough, too. Yet, all you do is leave the people wanting to know…. Is Hermione Granger all bark and no bite?"

Hermione's lip twitched in the corner on her mouth, as the memories of going head-to-head with the woman in magenta came resurfacing. Intrusive and repulsive in integrity, Rita Skeeter caused many problems for the witch and her friends when they attended Hogwarts; until she was bested by Hermione's wit.

Since then, she has continued publishing the occasional piece of trash that bites into the new minister and her loved ones, obviously not moving on from the insult.

"First of all, Ms. Skeeter, it is Minister Granger. I would appreciate the same level of respect that I afford you. Secondly, we are just as concerned at the situation as you all are. We have never experienced anything like this in the history of the wizarding world. As stated, we have professionals in every field working around the clock, twelve on and twelve off, to find anything at all for us to work with. Until then, we are working on instituting watches by skilled witches and wizards of the community. We are teaching daily lessons on bettering Expecto Patronum charms. We are enforcing curfews. We are asking our watches to institute escape drills in wizarding neighborhoods using portkeys and flu systems. We are focused on protection, just as much as research right now, and everyone is working to ensure we are advancing in both."

Hermione could tell her unsatisfying answer was worth as much to the crowd as she expected it would be. She didn't like living in a world with such a threat, especially one without a definite solution. She wanted to offer more, but had nothing for them. She was tired. She had been working around the clock, by day as minister and by night as researcher. She was exhausted and had nothing to show for it.

Naturally, Rita Skeeter once again broke the silence.

"Fine, Minister Granger, but do we at least have a current suspect for the dark plot? Who is controlling the beasts? Have we checked on current incarcerated Death Eaters and sympathizers to see if Voldemort has made a return? One of my colleagues already asked the question, but you so quickly dodged it. Is that why Mr. Potter is not here?"

The man in the green looked pleased at the mention of his question, as well as the attention from Skeeter.

"Ms. Skeeter, I assure you that I am not dodging questions," Hermione stated. "We have had a lot of concerns addressed and I am answering all that I can. I did not get to that answer before the others, simply because we have not explored that matter at all. We have no doubts that Voldemort is dead. This is not another chapter of the evil that was Voldemort. He is dead. I watched him die. I was at the Battle of Hogwarts. We are not putting any resources into exploring dead ends. We do not know the reason Dementors are rising against us, but a dead man is not it.

As soon as Hermione finished her sentence, a loud crack in the sky aptly stole the attention away from her. Behind the crowd, a green blast of energy shot into the air, rising higher and higher, with half the crowd of journalists sucked into the scene completely and the other quickly snapping pictures. It appeared that, whatever the source was, it came from about 15 blocks away. The blast was already about 1,200 feet off the ground and climbing.

As it climbed, the green light split into two swirls, curling down and into themselves, before shattering into a haze of the darkest greys and whisps of green. The smoke settled into the shape of a skull, as the onlookers gasped, and a monstrous snake poured from its mouth.

"The dark mark! Morsmordre!" the man in green whispered below his breath.

The crowd was so entranced by the omen in the shy that nobody was looking behind them when Hermione shouted "FINITE INCANTATEM!"

In an act of pure rage, the spell was much more than it needed to be, sending the largest blast of red sparks that the crowd had ever seen, over their heads, and into the sky. The blast of red sparks ended the Dark Mark upon contact with a deafening a roar. As it passed, the blast even managed to fade away the many silver splashes of Patronus charms and knocked Skeeters writing utensils from the air. The Aurors were quickly fleeing her side, apparating through London to explore the source of the spell.

In a crowd of uneasiness and worry, Skeeter looked smug, as she glared upon the Minister of Magic's face.

"You were saying…Minister Granger?"


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, Hermoine sat at her desk, staring at her copy of the Daily Prophet and letting her tea get cold. The paper showcased photos of the glowing, green Dark Mark hovering over London, as well as a photo of her Finite Incantatem, blasting from her wand and rushing over the crowd.

"YAS QUEEN," came an old, comforting voice from the doorway of her office.

"I'm sorry?" Hermoine asked her father-in-law, stifling back a giggle brought on by his goofy behavior.

"I'm not certain, really, but Muggles are saying it all the time these days," Arthur Weasley said.

Her beloved father-figure crossed the room and sat in front of her, jabbing his finger at the picture of Hermoine casting the spell.

"I don't mean to downplay the Dark Mark," Arthur continued. "It is rather terrible, but, in a time when people are looking to you for strength, that photo does it."

"It was overkill. Complete and total overkill.

"It was a powerful spell... from a powerful witch...in a powerful position. That is what people see. Oh, and to have held the conference out in the open world? I don't even think Shacklebolt came off as strong in his famous hunt of the remaining Death Eaters. You have bravery, Gryffindor.

Hermoine smiled, letting her father-in-law have the moment. She loved her father-in-law immensely. She actually adored her entire set of in-laws. They'd felt like family since she was a little girl. Her one act of nepotism after taking her job was to create a new position for Mr Weasley. He was now Chief of Muggle Relations, something most fitting for him.

Her smile quickly twisted into a frown again, directed at the troubling matter standing before her.

"The Dark Mark, though? None of my aurors were able to turn up anything. It just seems so...strange and out of place, especially since we have no reason to believe any movement of resistance has been made in favor of Voldemort or any of his followers. It just makes zero sense."

"I agree, Love. That's what I reminded Ron this morning."

"You've spoken with him?"

"We communicated by fire this morning. It was brief, but he was asking about you. He and Harry were planning on returning to help. I told them you had control of things and they were needed at Hogwarts."

"Thank you," Hermoine said, looking back to the paper that held her attention all morning.

Harry and Ron were sent to Hogwarts after the Dementor attacks to calm the worried minds of parents whose children were attending the school. Nobody was admired like Harry and the Patronus was his specialty. It made a lot of people feel more comfortable, knowing he was on school grounds.

Hermoine smiled, thinking of Harry teaching the kids how to perfect their own versions of the spell, reminding her of her days in Dumbledore's Army.

"Well, I suppose I should let you get to work," Arthur Weasley continued. "I don't have anything to report today. I have been with the Prime Minister most recently, just calming her nerves in all of this. The Muggle world is still reeling, but most don't realize the cause...I envy them in ways."

Hermoine bid farewell to Mr. Weasley and went back to wondering about the Dark Mark.

"It just makes no sense."


End file.
